Unforgiven Hero
by USAAuror
Summary: Ron Weasley's actions in a crisis are hailed as heroic. However, he is having a crisis of his own as he honestly evaluates his actions and the costs of his decisions along with what that means concerning his relationship with his wife.
1. Storm Prep

Disclaimer: The characters and their backstories belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not obtain any monetary compensation for this story.

This is an exploration Ron's honest evaluation of his actions during a crisis and what that reveals about his relationship with Hermione. Looks like at least 3 chapters

Ron's thoughts are in _italics_.

 **Ch 1 - Storm Prep**

 _You'd think that the reception area of_ _Witch Weekly_ _would have a copy of their magazine that was less than a month old. These seats aren't comfortable either. They wanted to do the photo and the interview on the same visit; hazards of a weekly deadline. I guess we'll just have to wait._

 _There's the Weasley's Wheezes ad. Probably should increase it to a full page since Hermione and I will be on the cover. I'll pass it by George. Always give the partner a veto opportunity. He'll agree, though; I_ _ **am**_ _'Sales and Promotion', after all._

 _Hmmm…Cho Chang's interview on her development of the Firebolt X21. It's a bloody fast broom…pretty good handling, now, since they fixed it. She was the design team leader. I see no mention of the team members' contributions, especially Axyl Boot's breakthrough on magically channeling airflow around the rider. Too bad they found the flaw in the dive control after this interview and the release of the broom for sale. Like George says, never scrimp on R &D. Three folks hurt pretty badly. And one's still in…_

"Tsk!"

"What?"

"Looks like Cho thinks she's all that and a bag of crisps! Some things don't change"

"Hermione, I think that's due to the questions they ask in the interview and how they edit it."

"Oh Really?! Look what she says; it's all 'I did this' and 'my ideas that'. What an ego".

"She **did** lead a design team that produced 'the first broom in 30 years significantly reducing the tradeoff of speed for agility'."

"True Ron, but Cho's responses are all about her. No team."

"Well, I hope I can keep my answers from being so self-serving. If it looks like my head's getting too big, just hex me or something. Ok?"

"No worries, my love. Keeping you humble is what I live for."

"Of that, I am well aware"

 _Right...the interview. '_ _The Hero of the Remus Lupin Charity Ball_ _' or some such. They act like I stopped those terrorists in the Malfoy ballroom by myself with a single spell or a well-aimed fart. Why did I agree to this?_

 _Dad says it'll show those extremists that we're not afraid. Yeah, sure. Not afraid to paint a target on my family's back. Hermione's hoping it will increase donations so they can buy more wolfsbane potion for poor werewolves, fund research into a cure ….AND lobby for fewer restrictions on careers that werewolves can work in. She rarely mentions that last part around…wait…what's she doing?_

"Excuse me, sir. How much longer?"

"I truly apologize, Mrs. Weasley . Ms. Kelso is still at Malfoy manor interviewing His Lordship about the Remus Lupin Foundation. Lord Malfoy requested that background on the charity be provided as a separate article. Unfortunately, that interview was delayed by his late arrival."

"Of course, Hermione, we wouldn't want to inconvenience **Lord** Malfoy, now would we?"

"Well, Ron, Lucius established and initially funded the Foundation. Don't force me to hex you, **before** the interview." _Damn! Her smile is disarming!_

"As you command, my brunette beauty."

"And, again, the dashing hero chooses the correct course of action"

 _Her hand is warm on my arm. It gives me that tingling feeling every time. Oh, a kiss on the cheek, too. She may as well have used a Confundus charm on me. I'm always …oops…she's saying something._

"What?"

"I asked if you would like something to drink. I'm going to the restaurant next door."

"Um, Mrs. Weasley. There're plenty of complementary refreshments in the crew break room. We provide them for anyone being interviewed. It's right down that passageway, third door on the left just past the women's."

"Thank you. Ron? You want something?"

"Uh…sure. Pumpkin juice with cinnamon?"

"Got it. Be right back."

 _And she's walking away. I love the way her bum moves. Oh…she caught me looking. Laughing and shaking her head doesn't take away from the movement, thank goodness. That's my favorite blouse. Great memory's attached to it. The photographer chose it from her wardrobe for the shoot. Last June, first time she wore it, I helped take it off her down by the creek behind the Borrow. Sex was a rare thing then, always too busy or too tired, but Mum was watching Hugo and we snuck away. Afterward, bare ass naked, she just lay back on the blanket and I enjoyed the view. Harry got an eyeful when he flew in to ask if I wanted to play Quidditch. She yelped and pulled me on top to cover her, which made it look worse. Ginny had warned him not to look for us. He didn't listen and Gin never said what hex she put on him, but he did have to eat standing up. Hilarious! Thank you, mister photographer. At least Hermione thinks that it's funny now._

 _Photographer; pictures. Merlin, we must have sat for a hundred pictures. I can't say I'm too happy about the pose chosen for the cover. It looks too similar to that horrible picture in the Prophet the day after the attack. The Prophet photographer's been nominated for an award for 'succinctly depicting the horror of these attacks by Romanian extremists along with the bravery of those who stand against them'. It shows me sitting on my heels with my wand in my left hand and my right arm stained with blood up to my elbow. I have blood smears on my face. Hermione has her arms wrapped around my shoulders to comfort me. There is blood splatter across her gown and on her neck. To the left of us, extending out of the picture is the blood-soaked gown along with the very still hand and forearm of Melissa Xenos. I can't look at that photo without reliving it._

 _I know exactly when that picture was taken. I was just about to recognize what I had done and what it might mean._

 _I have to sort this out now, before the interview. I shouldn't have let it get ahead of me. Too much anxiety. That can't happen when I'm talking to Ms. Kelso. Control breathing…in nose…out mouth…in nose…out mouth._

 _The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, using volunteered memories, issued a report on the attack to the public. Even though it was a simple timeline of events, I have to admit it shows me as the first and main person to take action against the terrorists. I shouldn't have gotten in a fight with Harry about the release. I thought he'd made it biased toward me, but he had me read the transcripts from the witnesses' memories until I admitted that his report was accurate. Now it's worse. Someone in his department leaked our shouting match to the press making me look like a self-depreciating hero. Bloody fucking brilliant!_

 _It's a good thing that a pensieve only reveals actions and not thoughts. Opinions of me would probably change greatly if it did._

 _That night at the ball, I was chatting up Maxine O'Flaherty about the Harpies' win against the Cannons the weekend before and happened to see Hermione a little ways off behind her. She was in a discussion with Lucius Malfoy and Lord Greengrass. Of course, I was appraising how gorgeous she looked in her ivory gown. Her hips are a little wider now than before her three pregnancies, and that dress set them off very nicely. She says that tighter clothes are a small price to pay to have Rose and Hugo. Hermione's eyes connected with mine and she gave me that little half smile that gets me randy. Lord Malfoy turned and saluted me with his champagne glass and a nod. Maxine twisted around to see what had grabbed my attention, rolled her eyes and said, "Maybe you two should get a room."_

 _Just then, a detonation off to my right had me snatching my wand from its holster and whipping my head around toward the ballroom entrance as the doors exploded open. Why'd they have to blow them open? They were unlocked. Immediately, spell jets fly from the entrance into the crowd and people are screaming. The stunned mob just starts to react near the center of the violence while I frantically look back toward Hermione in time to see blood spraying across the gown as Lord Greengrass falls away from her. Lucius Malfoy is reaching for his wand while pointing toward the back of the ballroom away from the entrance._

 _Things start happening in fractions of a second. All I can think of is to keep her safe. Best way to do that; eliminate the threat; so I turn back to the entry doors. I yell at Maxine to run while I set up a Protego to divide the ballroom, left side from the right. I use Depulso to shove that shield wall to the left before it dissipates, forcing the crowd with it and leaving me with clear line of sight to the terrorists. Pieced that one together from what I saw of Draco's actions during the Battersea Bridge incident and by reading '_ _Introduction to the Physics of Magic_ _'. Thanks for the book, Hermione._

 _The terrorists spot me and attempt to separate but I throw two quick Confringo hexes exploding on either side of their group. Starting toward them, casting Reducto hexes, I see two of their wands point at me as each wizard casts a spell. Twisting sideways I feel the explosion that rolls me toward the crowd on the right. I recover in time to view a jet of light from behind me bring the ceiling down and crush the right hand terrorist under a massive desk that falls from the floor above. Glancing behind me, I spy Maxine already sending another hex at their group._

 _Three out of the six remaining fanatics turn their wands onto the more populated left side of the room. More screams, I continue hurling Reducto's, breaking their shields to allow other hexes through to the terrorists themselves. Ropes from Narcissa Malfoy's wand drop the one of them to the floor. Continuing forward and seeing his companion try to free him, I send a Reducto toward her. Surprisingly, it doesn't hit a shield and lands at her feet obliterating them. She is blasted back into the doorframe behind her. There are only four left._

 _Still moving forward and throwing hexes, I'm yelling "Shields, shields, shields" to the crowd and finally see wizards and witches casting protective charms. Maxine continues flinging curses from behind me which keeps me from being the only target. An old wizard takes down a terrorist on the left with a Stupefy followed quickly by Incarcerous. Three to go but now they have to be getting desperate. I'm worried that they will resort to Firestorm, Fiendfyre or something equally monstrous. I'm hoping to end this before they try._

 _I'm closing the distance to them and the number of curses headed their way is increasing, while I maintain my strategy of Reducto after Reducto, blasting down their shields as quickly as they charm them up. I dodge a curse only to hear a blast and a scream behind me. Maxine is down. No more help there. The terrorists are cooperating better by having one take care of shielding them while the others hurl spells at the crowd._

 _I finally see my tactical error when a blast from friendly fire throws me on my stomach sliding toward the extremists. They are as stunned as I am to see me lying at their feet. I roll to my right bringing my wand up as a curse hits the closest terrorist, destroying her arm and shoulder. Gore flies onto my two remaining foes as they hurriedly reestablish their Protego against the main group's attack. Before they realize I am still inside their shield, I Stupefy them both. The old wizard, who, it turns out, is the famous potions master Baily Angove, conjures ropes around them as I stand up. Others come up to collect the terrorists' wands and make sure they're all dead or bound up._

 _According to the Auror department, the time between me setting up the first Protego and dropping the last terrorist was only 1 minute and 16 seconds. It seemed much longer than that._

 _I scan the room and find Hermione standing next to Mr. Malfoy near the same spot I had last seen her, wand out and eyes wide, staring at me. To say she's wasn't happy with me is a massive understatement._

 _People are on the ground moaning and crying, which rouses the stunned majority to help the wounded. Hermione sends her otter Patronis to Harry while Mrs. Malfoy sends hers to St. Mungos. The majority of the wounded or dead are on the side of the room where Hermione is standing. It looks like the injured are getting help, and the emergency people should be arriving soon, so I decide to go to her. She doesn't move and, even from this distance, I can see the fury in her eyes._

 _As I make my way forward, I spot someone weakly struggling under a large man's body. He is obviously dead, a hole in his neck where the spinal cord should be. Quickly pushing him off, I find a young woman lying on her stomach with a bleeding wound in the back of her neck just to the right of her spine. Auror first aid training kicks in and I turn her over while trying to keep her neck from moving. She is awake, her eyes communicating her fright and pain. There is gurgling as she tries to breathe and blood is flowing out of a ragged hole in the front of her throat. I see pulsing, not strong, but it's obviously arterial bleeding. Arteries cannot be repaired if the blood continually pumps out of them. So, I stick my fingers in the hole to look for the blood vessel and pinch it off._

 _She tenses up with the pain and tries to throw me off her, flailing with her arms and legs. I yell for help just as a man grabs her arms and puts his bulk across her torso. A young witch uses Tergeo to clean blood out of the hole allowing the woman to breathe easier. I find the tiny tear in the blood vessel and place my fingers on either side of it, then press them toward my thumb on the outside of her neck to close off the artery. The carotid arteries are all connected together in the head so both sides of the rip must be pinched off. I look in the woman's eyes, seeing more fear and agony, while I clamp down as hard as I can and shout my request for someone who knows how to repair blood vessels. An older witch kneels down stating that she'll do it. I concentrate on holding the blood back while she waves her wand, knitting the vessel walls back together. Moments later, she says it's done and I release my hold, leaving my fingers there in case the tear opens up again. It doesn't._

 _Relief begins to wash over me until I realize that I don't feel any pulse in her artery. I instantly point my wand at her chest. "Rennervate"…no pulse…" Rennervate"…no pulse. "Rennervate…rennervate….rennervate, damn it….please…rennervate." I feel tears of frustration on my cheeks as I try again and again. Then Hermione is there, grabbing my wand hand and pulling it down to my side. I sit back on my heels as she reaches across my shoulders and leans against me._

 _I look down at the dead girl and notice she's younger than I thought. She has long brown hair. Her fully dilated pupils hide her eye color, a sight that causes me to quickly divert my attention her dress. It's a light blue gown with airy translucent fabric added to the top half. I stare at it for a time until it comes to me where I had seen her. She was in the crowd I pushed out of the way. I had put her in the place where she was wounded. I cry out, "Oh Merlin! I killed her; I killed her. She's dead because of me!" I break down, curling my knees to my chest. Hermione holds my shoulder and talks into my ear. "Ron, it's not your fault. You tried to save her. Ron, please listen to me! Ron!" I don't listen. Hermione didn't realize my guilt, but I knew exactly why that girl was there._

"Sorry, I took so long. Had to use the loo. Here's your pumpkin ju….Ron? What's wrong?

"Clemence Fitton, Agnes Ludsthorp, Barnaby Panshawe, Frideswide Chatwyn, Charles Xenos and Melissa Xenos."

"This again? The terrorists killed those people, not you!"

"Right, I only served them up for those bastards. Maybe I should've included a platter of chips!"

"Harry says that many more would have died if you hadn't acted so quickly. For Morgana's sake, Ron, why doesn't his professional opinion mean anything to you?"

"His opinion has a lot of meaning and it does make me feel better about most of what I did. But she was **sixteen** , Hermione! Her worries should've been if Ravenclaw would win the Quidditch Cup, how well she wrote her potions paper, or what color lip glamor would impress that cute Slytherin boy…not 'When is this red headed man going to stop hurting me?'. Merlin's beard! I'm afraid I'm going to start babbling like this if the right question is asked. I need to work through this a bit before the interview. I feel like the stress that night brought a deeper issue to the surface."

"What issue?"

"I don't know for sure. I need to think on it." _That's mostly a lie._

"I could help."

 _She's reaching to hold me. I can't have that._

"Please don't, Hermione. Every time you comfort me, it calms me down but I also stop considering the problem. I would love to fall into that security, but I won't resolve anything that way. Just let me concentrate on it till the interview, ok?"

"Would you like to talk about it with me?"

"Not yet and certainly not here. It's looking like a very emotional issue for me. If I can figure out the problem, I'll let you know…" _Another lie_ "…and we'll talk."

 _She's thinking about what I said, chewing her bottom lip. Is she wondering if I'm lying? Please, my love, just let it go. Don't push me to tell. It will only hurt you and, maybe, make you afraid of me. Hell, I think I'm afraid of me._

"Hmmf! Alright, I'll wait. I'll just read while you sort things out. Please don't keep me in the dark for long."

 _There she goes, getting into the patented Hermione Granger reading position. It's like she takes 'Curl up with a good book' as a literal requirement. One foot or both up in the chair, knees up. Sometimes I think she's crawling right into the pages. I love watching her read. If things get interesting or difficult she puts her hand on her chin or plays with her hair, chewing her lip till she figures it out. Red, swollen bottom lip, Hermione? Must've been a really intellectual book…or you were snogging. I started reading more just so I could peek at her every so often. I'm not sure I would be able to truly enjoy reading again without her._

 _Well, that's the crux of my problem, isn't it? Those two words…"_ _ **without her**_ _"._

"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? Ms. Kelso would like to see you in her office now. That door over there. Just go right in."

"You mean the one with the placard saying 'Andrinia Kelso'?

"Yes."

"Thank you"

[Whispered]"Ron, you are such a smart-arse."

[Whispered] "Better than being a dumb…OW!"

 _Well, so much for working things out, before the interview. I've got to keep my head on straight now._

 **A/N: Please review! I am unsure if keeping the thoughts in italics is the best way to jump between what Ron is thinking and what is happening around him at the time. That will become important in the next chapter where the interview for Witch Weekly is taking place.**


	2. Storm Hidden

**Disclaimer: The characters and their backstories belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not obtain any monetary compensation for this story.**

Ron's thoughts are in _italics_.

 **Ch 2: Storm Hidden**

"Mr and Mrs Weasley! Andrinia Kelso, but you can call me Andi. Sorry for the delay. Lord Malfoy was mired in a surprise muggle-government inspection of his investment firm's paperwork. He was over an hour late for our interview. At least they put on a good spread for lunch, Hah!"

"I'm Hermione and this is Ron. Let's stick with first names for the interview. We've looked over the list of possible questions and they're really quite vague. I also noticed that the disclaimer allows you to change the line of questioning entirely in the middle of the interview. We may not be prepared for that."

"The disclaimer allows me to explore particular lines of questioning if your initial answers intrigue me. It makes for a more personalized article. Typically, we ask many more questions than what is shown in the final cut anyway. Now, the interview will focus on aspects of the attack and its effect on you, but some background and side questions will be necessary. If you're agreeable with the terms, we can start. Ron?"

"I'm good. Hermione?"

"Cautiously optimistic. Let's go ahead."

 **Ronald and Hermione Weasley** lounge comfortably in my office chairs. The wizarding world knows them most notably as two-thirds of the Harry Potter trio who, while mere teens, destroyed the split parts of Voldemort's soul, resulting in his resounding defeat at the Battle of Hogwarts. They each have Chocolate Frog Cards attesting to that.

Ron remained at Harry's side as an Auror for several years before becoming a partner in his brother's business. What is not so well known is Ronald Weasley's role as the business strategist leading the transformation of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes from a two store British operation to a multi-national entertainment and security equipment enterprise challenging the top corporations in both the wizarding and non-magical worlds.

Hermione Weasley (nee Granger) made a name for herself in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as the driving force behind new British legislation for the management of elves as household servants and its adoption in a significant portion of the world's nations. She has also been highly praised for her political acumen in supporting ideas and weaving international compromises that resulted in more humane treatment of wild magical creatures while maintaining the spirit of the Statute of Secrecy. Since obtaining her law degree from Oxford, a non-magical university, Hermione has recently changed careers to add her considerable talents to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

It is no secret that Ronald and Hermione Weasley are well on their way to establishing themselves as one of the new power couples in British wizarding society. They have agreed to speak with Witch Weekly after receiving requests from nearly every wizarding periodical across the British Isles. Although not typically intimidated by the spotlight despite the paucity of interviews they have given since the defeat of Voldemort's army, their body language suggests some nervousness at the reason for this meeting.

The terrorist attack at Malfoy Manor was intended as a mass killing of werewolf rights supporters in a misguided effort to frighten people from backing the cause. Eye witness and Auror reports of the incident show Ronald Weasley taking the initiative and orchestrating a direct attack on the terrorists. His quick thinking and commanding actions are credited with saving the lives of dozens of magical and non-magical guests attending the charity event.

 **Andi** : Ron, your actions at Malfoy manor that night are being spoken of as both heroic and foolhardy. There is also some talk of an Order of Merlin.

 **Ron** : [Chuckling] Foolhardy? It sounds like you've already interviewed Hermione. She was somewhat miffed about my decision to, as she says, "Blindly jump in with both feet". I guess she really wants to keep me around. [Hermione rolls her eyes at his comment and he simply grins back at her.]. Seriously though, I was just the first to act, and that was from my Auror experience. Many others stepped up in that fight, some of them getting seriously injured. Each one of them is as much a hero as I am. It is the willingness of people like these to stand up and fight, that keeps wizarding society free. We cannot allow ourselves to be at the mercy of the extremists in our society. As far as my heroics are concerned, I don't believe that an Order of Merlin is in the offing, much less deserved by me.

 **Andi** : Speaking of injuries, I understand that you also had to be taken to St Mungos for treatment.

 **Ron** : Just minor stuff. I was released the next day.

 **Hermione** : Yes, just minor injuries: 3 cracked ribs, bruised lung, internal bleeding, fractured ulna, burst eardrum, sprained ankle and a concussion.

 **Ron** : Didn't seem so bad at the time. _Why'd she bring that up? I thought we were going to tone down the "hero rhetoric"._

 **Andi** : A number of analysts have commented on your use of the Protego charm to move people out of the line of fire before you attacked the terrorists. This is the first time they have seen the defensive spell used like this. Is it your own invention?

 _Out of the line of fire….that's a fucking laugh!_

 **Ron** : Actually, it's a modification of something one of our Aurors did during a skirmish on the Battersea Bridge. Harry and I were boxed in and outnumbered by a gang of suspects, barely holding our own and about to be overwhelmed. The normal anti-apparition wards were applied to the area, so we couldn't just pop away. Another member of our team, Draco Malfoy, charmed up a Protego, reinforced it, and then set off a blasting curse causing the shield to topple part of the bridge onto the suspects.The shield charm was used to force the falling concrete in the right direction. In the Malfoy ballroom, I simply used the shield without reinforcing and Depulso to push it at a speed that wouldn't hurt anyone.

 **Andi** : So Auror Malfoy's actions saved your lives and helped you in the terrorist attack.

 _Uh…yes! Didn't I just say that?_

 **Ron** : Definitely. However, his actions in helping us diverted his attention from the suspect he was chasing. Draco took a slicing curse to the chest and a Stupefy which flung him off the bridge supports to the rocks below. Harry's cushioning charm kept him from dying but he still got pretty banged up. Aurors constantly save each other's lives. Life debts are not applied during Auror actions.

 **Andi** : Getting back to the ballroom attack, you continued to help after the terrorists were subdued. Your failed attempt to save Melissa Xenos has received considerable comment. The Auror report lists her wound as having been inflicted by the terrorist Ecaterina Mihnea. Yet, witnesses have said that, after she died, you were extremely upset that you had killed her. [Hermione reaches over, putting her hand on top of his. Ron remains very still, thoughtfully considering his reply, his face showing a play of emotions from anger to sadness. He looks in his wife's eyes before removing his hand from under hers and turning to me.]

 _Well, this isn't going to be a piece of fluff journalism._

 _What do I say? Why did I move all those people left instead of right? Was Melissa simply part of a human shield that I set up between the terrorists and Hermione? Well, that might sell a lot of magazines but it's probably not in our best interest to make a statement like that. Not sure that's what I did, anyway. It's just one possibility. How about…_

 **Ron** : Yes, I was upset. By clearing out the people between me and the terrorists, I moved several of them to the places where they were wounded or killed. Immediately after that, the terrorists concentrated their attack on the area where I moved them.

 **Andi** : The statistical analysis performed by the Ministry's Auror Department specified that if you had moved those people to the opposite side of the ballroom, chances are the number of people struck by the terrorists' hexes would have been the same within a small margin of error. Also, the analysis conclusively shows that, had you not moved them, a significantly larger number of casualties would have occurred. They have stated that you should not consider yourself responsible for those deaths.

 _What the…? Not unexpected but, Merlin's fucking saggy grey-haired nut sack; does everyone have to bring this up?_

 **Ron** : So, I am exonerated by statistical analysis. That's a spot of good news.

Everyone in that ballroom was put into that situation by a group of delusional religious zealots who have been brainwashed to believe that their version of the Almighty wants them to do this terrible thing. Once the hexing started, there was no way through it without people getting hurt or killed. I am well aware that the responsibility for these deaths lies directly on their shoulders. [He pauses, then sighs before continuing]

However, I chose what I thought was the lesser of two evils by moving people out of the way so my hexes, and the return fire from the terrorists, wouldn't hit them. After being pushed aside, those people were bunched up so that a spell thrown at them was more likely to hit and hurt someone. I'm the one who bunched them up before the terrorists fired on them. Let me tell you about that lesser evil I chose. It was still an evil!

Melissa Xenos was a 16 year-old muggle-born witch. Her father, Charles, was an executive at Lord Malfoy's investment firm on the non-magical side. He brought her to the ball at her request. Mr. Xenos' last act in his life was a vain attempt to save his daughter by shielding her with his own body. One slicing curse killed them both.

I saw the pain in her eyes when I shoved my fingers into that hole in her neck, I felt the her life pumping out of that torn artery with every beat of her heart, and I saw the blank stare of death when I looked at her face the last time. I knew she was one of the people I had moved out of my way.

At that moment, confronting those ghastly results, I couldn't help feeling remorse at making that choice. That scene still plays itself out in my nightmares. So, you'll have to forgive me if I refuse to be told how I should feel by some mathematician with a self-inking quill and an equation!

[We sit silent for a few moments. Hermione is rubbing Ron's back and he looks away from me as he attempts to regain his composure.]

 **Ron** : Sorry about that outburst. You had no way of knowing how raw that memory is for me.

 _Yeah, right. You got what you wanted._

 **Andi** : I understand; you've been through a lot. What are you doing to return to normal in the wake of this experience?

 **Ron** : Actually, I am supposed to start with counseling in a therapy for people who have been through violent traumatic situations. It was started a few years after Voldemort's defeat. A lot of students who were at Hogwarts back then have been helped by this course.

 **Andi** : Hermione, you are the CEO and lead spokesperson for the Remus Lupin charity on top of your career in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Both of these efforts seem to take a great deal of your time. How has this affected your family life, especially your children?

 **Hermione** : Frankly, there are times that I wonder about my choices. Every mother does, even if they choose to stay home. However, I know that my efforts to improve conditions for everyone in magical society are not wasted. My children will benefit.

Since my return to the Ministry, Ron has arranged his work so that he rarely has to travel. I often come home from work to find him fixing supper, rolling on the floor with the children, or reading to Rose. He has supported my choice in careers since I started. There still are conflicts but we have been graced with a large extended family that helps each other. There are times when I have picked up my children at Grandma Weasley's and times when I have prepared meals for 3 or 4 nephews and nieces along with my own children. This cooperation certainly brings the family closer.

 **Andi** : The Remus Lupin charity regularly lobbies the International Confederation of Wizards to increase the rights of werewolves. Those actions are in direct conflict with the Romanian extremists who regularly use the sacrificing of the lower magical creatures, including werewolves, in their cult's religious rituals. Their claim is that your charity and similar groups are attempting to hamper religious freedom. What is your response to that?

 **Hermione** : The ancient Inca society practiced human sacrifice to their god in order to affect something as mundane as seasonal rains. If that religion is revived somehow, should the international community allow the killing of human beings in order to support religious freedom? Werewolves are not lower magical beasts. They are members of the human race who have contracted a horrific disease. They deserve as much protection under the law as a handicapped person or someone with a mental illness.

 **Andi** : Your work with this charity is not without risk, as shown by this attack. You have faced much danger and heartache in your lives so far. You fought in the war, together. You've watched friends die. You were tortured. Ron faced down dangerous criminals, getting seriously injured several times. You lost your first son. [Hermione's reaction causes me to immediately regret mentioning their child. She registers shock, then sadness and swiftly impassiveness. Ron quickly places his hand in hers which I notice is trembling slightly. His face remains stoic, his lips in a tight grim line as he faces me while I continue.] What is it that impels you to continue this work and place yourself in these situations?

 _She brought up Joseph? I should have said that was off limits. He died in the birthing room right on Hermione's chest. For days afterward, she was sad but seemed to be in control, like always…strong…brave. Then I found her in the tub. I panicked. So much blood in the water. Oh….I remember what Dad told me….was he right?_

 _Her hand's shaking. Squeeze her hand. I'm here, love, holding you._

 **Hermione** : [Her voice is somewhat unsteady and her eyes are bright as she looks away and blinks rapidly] The American patriot Thomas Paine, during their war for independence, wrote "I prefer peace. But if trouble must come, let it come in my time, so that my children can live in peace".

Our experience with previous trials and our desire to keep our children from facing those things impels us to stand for the next trial. Every parent faces adversity, makes sacrifices and accepts risk so that their child can be spared those things. In most cases, these are minor risks.

We faced war to save the next generation from evil oppression. Ron confronted criminals so our children's towns are safer. I work to end discrimination so my son will not have to live in it. For us, failure to face a conflict pushes that conflict on to our children, and we will have none of that.

 **Andi** : Your conviction is inspiring. Thank you both for speaking to us.

 **Hermione** : You're welcome.

 **Ron** : My pleasure.

 _Holy hell, that was worse than I thought it would be._

"That was a good interview. Our readers will appreciate your candor. We've had a significant increase in subscriptions since announcing that you two would be interviewed. Would you like to stay for a drink?"

"Well Andi, we wanted to ensure the truth was published. So we chose your publication. Thanks for the offer, but we've been here quite a while and I'd like to go have fun with a gorgeous red head. How about you, Hermione?"

"I'm up for holding a short brown haired guy in my arms if you don't mind."

"I know just where we can get a couple of willing young people. We can Floo right there from their fireplace in the waiting room. Good afternoon, Ms. Kelso."

 _I've got to talk to Dad about that night. What did he mean that he hoped he wouldn't see it, again? Maybe I can catch him puttering around in the shed._

"Let's see if Mom wouldn't mind us staying for dinner tonight."

"Ron, I'm really knackered. Can't we just do dinner tomorrow, like usual?"

"Tell you what; I'll watch the kids for a while and let you nap when we get there. It's still early enough for that before dinner. I really would like to talk to Dad tonight. We can skip going there tomorrow until late afternoon."

"OK, but I'm holding you to your word. I get at least an hour in bed."

"Sure, but I thought you wanted to sleep. Plus, I can't watch the kids while we're..OW! Fine…fine. I better not see you looking at any books during that hour."


	3. What I've Felt What I've Known

Notes: Difficult time putting this together. Couldn't seem to find an easily believable outcome, so you get this. Please critique my writing. I really don't mind. It is in the forge we are purified.

Disclaimer: The characters and their backstories belong to J. K. Rowling.

Ron's thoughts are in _italics_.

 **Ch 3: What I've Felt; What I've Known**

 _I have to live up to my promise to Hermione. I guess now's good, when she's done getting the kids down for the night._

 _What a revealing talk with Dad. He confirmed I'm still dealing with the problem he'd seen at the hospital those years ago. He says he even told me about it back then, but I guess I didn't really hear. I had too much else on my mind and too much to do._

 _When I think back, the many sensations from that day flow over me. The wet coolness of the foggy morning turns into glistening droplets in our hair and forms slippery grass underfoot as we walk to the back of the property. My shoulder feels the jerk when George and I fall out of step, my hand is cold from the brass handle, and the light weight of the little casket tugs at my bicep. Then there's the smell of freshly turned earth, the roughness and warmth of the strap sliding through my hands, along with the gentle sobs from Hermione just behind me heaping more weight on the lump of lead in my chest. Again my hand chills as I trace the letters on the marble, and "Joseph Daniel Weasley" registers in my thoughts from the reflex action of reading._

 _Time skips to us on the sofa where her body warms my side and her hair tickles my cheek. My chest is still wet from her tears even though she's been silent for quite some time. She's had her anti-depression potion but still hasn't fallen asleep. It's supposed to make her drowsy; it never does. Her fingers trace lines with feathery touches on the scars of my forearm, and I ask if she's ok. Lifting her head draws those soft curls across my nose, the smell of apricots, and then her brown eyes look into mine with a neutral expression. She says that it's going to be better soon, but for now she'd like a warm bath. She uncurls, giving me a sad half smile and heads for the bedroom. I hear some fumbling through the open bedroom doorway and, then, the closing bathroom door._

 _The memory shifts to the bedroom where the breeze-borne movement of a quill on the dresser catches my eye causing me to notice the folded parchment. It's smooth in my hand and has a ripped upper right corner. The writing is Hermione's, but placed there by an unsteady hand. A glint of light distracts me into watching her wedding ring slide from the note to clink against her music box and fall behind the bureau. I read the letter…_

Dearest Ron,

I am so sorry I can only give you pain and not the family you want. I can't stay here and deny you your dream. Now I am with Joseph so you can find a wife who's not broken and get all the red haired babies you desire.

You are my first and only love,

Hermione

 _More sensations. The sharp pain in my shoulder from bouncing off the ward set on the lav door is followed by the sting of wood splinters piercing arms and neck as I Bombarda a hole in the wall. Next, the coppery taste and smell of blood assaults me, while I barely hear her whispered "Don't..". Magic flows through me as I send a patronis to Dad with the message "Hermione's injured. St. Mungo's". The red water's soaked her bra and knickers, making them almost see-through, but I toss out that thought as my right hand is pinched while holding my wand, pressing on her wrists and apparating to the hospital at the same time. Recovering from the nausea, I feel the warm blood in my palm, then hear shouts and movement around me. She puts all her strength into her struggle against me and voices a weak "No…Stop!" before passing out. Simultaneously, the urine released from her bladder is warm on my leg and an arm wrapped around my neck bruises as someone tries to pull me off her. One wrist is wrenched from my left hand, leaving hot blood on my fingers. I hear myself yelling "Help her!", and am pushed roughly aside while healers try to staunch the blood flow. The grey tone of her skin and the mediwitchs' expressions of hopelessness galvanize me to action. I'm fighting to be with her; not giving up until their security team locks me into a room and takes my wand. Left alone, I find myself surprised at the pain in my hands and forearms._

 _I sit, disappearing into my barely coherent thoughts, and wait. No one comes for a time and I feel the despair squeezing the breath out of me with every passing minute._

 _Much later Dad enters the room, very somber. The bottom drops out before he assures me she is still alive and sleeping. I push him aside on my way to the door that won't let me exit. He tells me of the charm on the door that prevents my leaving without his permission. He then refuses to grant me freedom until we talk._

 _It's the same every time. The memory overwhelms with the smells, sounds and tactile impressions which always leave me shaken from the recall._

"Rose is reading more of the bedtime story by herself. Sorry to take so long but I had to reward her with another chapter."

"She's a red-headed you. Ya can't get much more perfect than that. She'll be a world changer, like her Mum. Has Elizabeth begun seeing Mr. Darcy in a different light yet?"

"We haven't gotten that far and flattery isn't really getting you anywhere. Got the tea ready, I see."

"Yeah. Please sit down. We need to talk about what happened at Witch Weekly this morning."

"Oh? You and your Dad looked very serious coming in from the shed. Were you discussing your feelings about the attack?"

"Sort of; I wanted to talk about some things he tried to tell me a few years ago. I thought it had a connection to what I did during the attack and later. Damn! I don't know how to even start to explain this. I'm not totally sure I want to tell you everything but I really feel it's important that you know this about me."

"Ron, you're scaring me a little. How bad is this?"

"Maybe scared is a good place for you to be."

 _That got a reaction! She's leaning back from me, eyes darting from one point to another studying my face. In for a Knut..._

"Bugger me! I didn't want to upset you but I guess there isn't any other reaction to expect. So, here goes. "Okay Hermione, I need you to know that what I have to work on was not caused by anything you did and I don't place one ounce of blame on you."

"Erm...all right"

"First thing, I have to talk about the day of Joseph's funeral. You don't know what happened after I found you in the tub and I've never told you. I didn't think it was necessary after those months it took to get you better. You need to know now."

 _She looks upset. My chest hurts; eyes are stinging already._

"Hermione, th-there was so much blood, you were barely moving. I jumped in the tub, grabbed your wrists and apparated to St. Mungos. At first, they thought I was attacking you. Their security team pounced and tore me away from you. I fought them. They locked me up, and forgot about me, I guess.

As I sat there in that room, not knowing if you survived, I couldn't see a way forward. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. No desire to see or feel or breathe or even exist."

 _Here come her tears._

"Oh Ron, I'm so sorry. I hurt yo…"

"No! No my love; you weren't really in control of yourself. Remember, the cheering potions worked the opposite of what they were supposed to, making you more depressed. You became suicidal because the chemistry of your brain was screwed up by what I made you drink. The healers told me to watch for symptoms, in case you reacted badly. You put up such a brave front; I didn't pay attention enough and missed the signs. "

 _How can I blame you, when it's me I can't forgive._

"That wasn't your fault."

 _Yes it was. I failed you and I accept that._

"At any rate, I reckon I should get back to my explanation. So, Dad came to the room…"

* * *

Arthur entered the room, noticed the downtrodden set in his son's shoulders and sighed. Ron turned toward him. On seeing his Dad's face, Ron became anguish itself and began collapsing to the floor. Quickly, Arthur spoke.

"She's ok, Ron. Really. They have her sleeping upstairs."

"Oh, Dad! The look on your face; I thought..." Ron whispered. Suddenly, he jumped up. "I gotta go to her."

"Not yet. We have to talk."

"Later. I'm going." Ron pulls on the door which refuses to open. "Let me out."

"You can't leave unless I willfully allow you to go."

"Then let's go!"

"No. We have to talk."

"I'm not talking until I see that Hermione is ok."

"I told you she's ok. Do you think I'm lying?"

"I have to see it myself."

"Why? She's asleep from a Dreamless potion. She won't even know you're there."

Ron runs his hands through his hair. "I have to be there."

"You do not." Arthur's sternly replies. "You cannot help her. She doesn't need you now and you need to talk to me."

"Let. Me. Go. Now!"

Arthur raises his voice, "Ronald, you selfish prick! It's always about what you want. You act like you don't even know what you did. There's a healer with a concussion, and two security guards with broken bones. So, this is how it is?! You just decide to beat on anyone who gets in the way of what you want?"

"I…uh…What?!"

"Let's try this; here's your wand. Take it!"

Arthur shoves the wand into Ron's hand.

"Now you're in control, you self-important arse. All you have to do is kill me and the ward on the door drops. You can go to her. Come on! Do it!"

"Dad…I…" Ron cried "I can't kill you!"

Arthur angrily retorted, "No? That's too much for you? OK. Just use a Diffindo or burn me. After that, I'll let you out."

"No!"

"So, you draw the line at family, now? You didn't before when you threatened Bill and Fleur during the war. I guess this time it isn't bad enough. OK. I'll bring in someone you don't know and you can hurt them. Then I'll let you go to Hermione. Wait here, I'll be right back."

Arthur turns and walks toward the door.

"Dad, wait."

"What's wrong? You've already injured people you don't know, just to get what you want. Why not now?"

"That's not…I didn't mean…Dad, I don't want to hurt anyone."

"You lost control and those people paid the price. You let your fears cloud your judgement and rule you."

"I just have to be there for her when she needs help."

"What you need is to confront your fear of losing her. You've lost others, your brother, friends, a son. You have to deal with that, and you need help or you will give in again. So, is it really about her wellbeing…or is it your own self-centeredness?"

"What!? Of course it's about helping her!"

"Your actions aren't really doing that. Even if what you say is true, is the help you can give her important enough to hurt innocent people?"

"That depends on the situ..."

"No it doesn't!" Arthur shouted over Ron's half-hearted excuse. "Do you think she would put her comfort above those people you hurt? You know she wouldn't. Their pain is your fault and it is caused by your selfishness and fear! You must realize this. How would she feel if she found out what you had done?"

"Dad, I know what you're saying and I'll work at controlling myself after this. This time all I could think is that I can't lose her too. I can't…I just can't." Ron ended with a sob.

"I understand, son, but you must take some action. If you throw away what is right in situations like these because of panic or fear of loss, then helping her means nothing. This isn't the first time you've lost control. You haven't learned to deal with losing people in the war. You have to get some counseling. "

"I'll look into it after Hermione's better. I promise."

Arthur sighed, "All right. I've had my say and I can only hope you take it to heart. Let's go see your wife now."

* * *

"Hermione, I was sure I would be more self-controlled in those situations. I really thought so."

"You _have_ matured. You're not as volatile as you used to be, but I don't remember you going to counseling."

"Yes, I guess I don't fly off the handle so easily. Really, though, I forgot what Dad said because of the time spent helping with your recovery from the depression. You were really messed up for quite a while. I thought you would hate me after the stuff I put you through. But you were still alive, and that's all that mattered to me. So, I didn't go."

"At the end, I knew you gave up a lot to help me, Ron. I couldn't hate you for that."

"You despised me during it, wanted to kill me a couple of times. Anyway, I think it was the couple's therapy that got me more even tempered. We sure needed it after that."

 _She hated me and called me a monster then but I still would not let her go._

"Ok, but what does this have to do with your feelings about what you did during the attack?"

"I think I never dealt with my fear of losing you. Between that and the fallout from the Arizona mission, my decisions when the terrorists attacked were probably affected. I may have risked innocent lives to keep you safe."

"You've said it was your fault those people died. I thought you simply believed you made a bad decision in the heat of battle."

"I'm getting more convinced that I did something worse than a bad tactical decision. Much worse. "

 _Why did I move all those people left instead of right? The door was left of the center so the left side was closer to the terrorists at the door and the smaller space made it more crowded with people. One reason; Hermione was on the left side. Keeping her safe was the first thing I thought about. So, I put more people between her and the threat? Were those people nothing but objects to build my makeshift fortress that would protect my wife? In that instant of decision, did their lives have no value?_

 _She won't like it if I tell her that._

 _I don't like it._

 _I don't think I actually thought it out. Rather, I did it without thinking. Doesn't that make it worse? I automatically determined innocent people should be risked to keep her safe. Has this choice to devalue other human beings become a part of me?_

"I saw Greengrass get hit with that curse and how close it was to you. I believe, after seeing that, I pushed those people between the terrorists and you so they could be a human shield."

"No! You wouldn't …I would never want that!"

"I made you a promise after that craziness from the Arizona mission…. I would do anything, give up my life, to keep you from harm. You know I would. Attacking these terrorists showed that, I think. I also believe, if need be, I would kill to save you."

"Only as a last resort. Ron, you're not a cold-blooded murderer!"

"I don't want to think so, but I still needed to talk it over with Dad."

* * *

Arthur's hand hurt. Taking apart the muggle window air conditioning unit had not been without risk. The liquid sprayed out onto his fingers cooling them instantly. Then it disappeared leaving his hand achingly cold, the skin surface white with red around the edges. Molly was sure to comment unfavorably if he needed her healing expertise.

The workshop door squeaked open and Arthur turned as he reflexively shook his hand rapidly. At the opening, stood a smiling Ron staring at the still waving appendage.

"Still underestimate the dangers of muggle technology, I see", chuckled Ron.

"The owner's manual didn't say anything about liquid inside it. It's like a freezing charm right on the skin."

"I think you needed a repair manual, and some training. Right now, you need some healing help. Here. Let me at least do a numbing charm. Maybe a warming too."

Arthur held out his hand while Ron drew his wand and performed the magic. The pain relief was instantaneous and he was immediately thinking more clearly.

"Dad, I need to talk…about the charity ball…and more."

"Harry showed me the transcripts of the attack, Ron. He's worried about you, especially after you overreacted to the Prophet's portraying of the events. Are you really blaming yourself for those deaths?"

 _Did I trade Melissa Xeno's blood for my wife's? I feel that I did and did it without thinking. If I_ _ **had**_ _thought it through, would I have done the same? Merlin help me, I just might have! Was I so obsessed that I actually felt I couldn't go on without her?_

"Dad, I put those people between the Romanians and Hermione. It was a split-second decision but I saw a curse hit someone right next to her just before moving the crowd. A sixteen year old girl died when she shouldn't have, if I'd done it different."

"You don't know that, son. They're terrorists trying to make a big impact. They were probably just aiming where the most bloodshed would happen."

"It doesn't matter what they were thinking! All that matters is why I did what I did! I remember thinking I should attack the threat to protect Hermione. Was that my motivation for moving those people? I'm afraid the answer is yes. "

"Now Ron…"

"If it's true, how can I say I'm any better than Voldemort when I act like _my_ desires override everything else?"

 _When I express it this way, it seems like I've made Hermione into my desire,_ _ **something**_ _I want rather than_ _ **someone**_ _I love. Is my wife no longer a person to me? When did this happen? I'm sure I love her but has she become an obsession, something I cannot do without?_

"Son, please. You're overthinking this. You were saving innocent lives."

"I didn't fight those terrorists for any high-minded ideals! I did it for one self-serving goal…To keep me from being _without her_. I traded Melissa Xeno's life for Hermione's!"

 _I was more monster than hero._

"Calm down! You did no such thing! You made a decision to stand against those monsters…alone…keeping those people safely away from the battle."

Did I? Even _I_ can't tell you that! Everything is so muddled. I can't separate what I was thinking then from what I'm thinking now. I don't even know how far I would go if she's in danger! Torture? Murder? I really can't tell!"

 _Are the actions I take to protect and help Hermione simply to allow me to keep her? Now it seems that it's mostly about keeping her. How long has this skewed version of love gone on? Since Arizona? Joseph's death? The locket?_

 _I see all sorts of shite if I hold to this attitude of keeping her at all costs. And I'd probably lose her anyway because of that attitude._

"I told you back in the hospital, when she…that you needed counseling to deal the loss of Fred, and your friends. You never did that, did you."

"No. Too much happened and I forgot."

"Now look where you are. Son, let me set up a mind healer for you. I can do that through the Ministry and it is part of your health plan"

 _Is this how I get back to a healthy relationship with my wife?_

 _If Hermione wanted to leave me, could I let her go? Would I try to keep her against her will? My deep insecurity demands that I should hold on tightly. However, if I love her like I claim, then her best interest should be greater than my desires. I have to find the will and way to change me…to learn to live with and love my wife while I have her, without holding tightly at all cost. She would not want to be the reason that someone else was killed._

"Yes, Dad. Thanks. It's time I did better…for her."

* * *

"So, you're going to counseling. That's great, Ron! We've all noticed how distraught you've been since the attack."

"I am going and I am sorry I put you through my guilt trip."

"Do you really think you fought those monsters, just to keep me?"

Quietly, "I think…I'm afraid that….maybe so."

"Erm…you can't truly believe the only reason you moved those people, just to block those terrorists from hexing me?"

"I don't know, for certain."

"Ron…"

"Hermione, I don't know; but I think, yes."

"I know that's not who you are. Everyone says you made the right decisions there."

"Then my intentions mean nothing?"

"That's what the mind healer is for, to uncover your actual intentions."

"I guess, but….No, I not guessing anything. I need to do something. I won't let my fear of losing you turn me into someone you have to leave behind."

 _How do I get forgiveness for such a despicable act? How do I even ask?_


	4. The True Believers

A/N: Last chapter. I am really using this short story to define my characters (although Hermione doesn't get enough attention) and develop an antagonist for my next work.

Disclaimer: The characters and their backstories belong to J. K. Rowling. My lack of originality requires me to infringe on other author's works.

Final Scene

 **Ch 4: The True Believers**

Eacharn Nethery walked briskly down the spartan corridor in the London offices of Nomás Dikaiós Hodós. His concern about tardiness was warranted as the Mobad had scheduled a full day. Mobad Mariam Olabhue was the third British Isles leader since Eacharn had been promoted to executive assistant. The 68-year-old woman was by far the most relaxed of the three, stringently maintaining the active participation required to prevent chaos while not taking herself too seriously. When they met for the first time, she had joked about the mix of Christian and Nigerian influence in her name, then relieved him of the requirement to use her title except where formally specified. He liked her and was proud that she had retained him in this important position, especially at this time in history.

His 31 years as a Traveler had been marked with the expected sacrifice and loss. His wife of 10 years left the faith, requiring the modification of her memories and those of his son. The Travelers were gaining power, but secrecy was necessary until the research reached its goal. Obliviation was the only option. He tried to forget, to keep from falling into lethargy, but required forgiveness occasionally. When control was established….then, maybe he could have a wife again. The Correct Path was his family now and his efforts moved that family forward and kept the chaos at bay. Travelers have been fighting chaos for 23 hundred and 33 years, since being established by Eleftheria the Liberator, sorceress for Alexander III and direct descendent of Circe.

Now he was here in Britain, the location for the final unfolding of the prophecy. At least, that's what the 1200 years of interpreting those words indicate. He would likely live to see if the work of 2300 years would come to fruition now or if it would be pushed back into the shadows. What he is sure of, is that the destruction of this world is very likely, should the Travelers fail to control the coming conflict.

"Dr. Olabhue" he said from her office door (after all, she has a PHD), "Good blessings to you, this morning. I have correspondence from several of our associates. At least two will require your direct response."

Mariam nodded and continued writing on a parchment for several minutes. This didn't concern Eacharn as he watched the tight black and grey curls on the top of her head. Her normal mode of operation was to complete a thought before moving on to a separate topic. She looked up at him and smiled; her white teeth a bright contrast within her dark brown face.

"Well Eacharn, I would attribute your formality to guilt at being 25 minutes late, except you always call me doctor at our morning meeting. Good blessings to you! Did you sleep well or did your excitement over these latest events leave you unprepared for today?"

"I did sleep well, Mariam. I am a Traveler who knows getting proper rest is a necessary part of active participation in life." he said and dropped the periodical on her desk.

She chuckled as she noticed the magazine and replied, "Tsk-tsk, you know the Correct Path is more than trite little sayings. Rather, the Path is voluntarily fused to your life without compulsion or persuasion. Ah! The latest edition of Witch Weekly is here." She picked it up, looking at the cover.

She spoke almost to herself, "He's such a brave young man, a natural leader. Too bad he's not one of ours. My research on the wife revealed she works diligently for positive social change, to create a world similar to our goal. A brilliant witch and real asset to their wizarding world, she has the dedication and pragmatism that seem to make her a fine match for our organization, but we know that will never be. She doesn't understand how much control is needed for true world peace."

After a moment, Eacharn continued, "Related to the magazine article, Dr. Olabhue, we get to the reason I am late. The Romanian High Priest of that insane cult has written. Since he refuses to correspond formally in any other language than his native tongue, I had to get it translated. He's such an irritating self-righteous arse"

"Mr. Nethery, denigration of another's beliefs does not validate one's own. " she said, as she opened the magazine. "What does Abbot Pekurar have to say?"

Eachern read the translation to Mariam,

"Most venerated Mobad Olabhue,

I greet you in the name of the Glorious Magical and Almighty Goddess. May Her love for you as Her creation be as limitless as Her existence and may Her justice for your failure to provide appropriate sacrifices be held in abeyance.

I repeat my thankfulness to the Goddess for her assistance to you in obtaining the information necessary to support the cleansing mission carried out by our martyred brothers and sisters. My personal gratitude goes to you my dear associate Mariam. Your friendship and willingness to help are most prized by me.

Additionally, it is here that I must beg your forgiveness for our failure to perform the second portion of the cleansing requested by your representatives. It is the will of the Goddess that we would fail in our efforts with the Queen. It is also the Goddess' will that I should hold the responsibility for that. I openly express my personal regret to you while reveling in the forgiveness already provided by our loving Goddess.

It is with great humility that I put forward my next request. I am aware that I am being inordinately forward given the inability I have shown in completing our first agreement. However, I must ask for your aid in performing another cleansing against the British Ministry of Magic. They are exerting political and economic influence on the Romanian Ministry in an attempt to curtail our religious right of sacrifice.

We understand that you have information gatherers within that ministry in your employ. Based on the secrets you provided earlier, your followers must hold or have access to higher positions in the law enforcement and the Auror corps. Mobad Olabhue, it is in your best interest to make use of those sources of information as soon as possible in the event that they are not available in the near future.

Yours in Spirit and Truth,

Most High Exalted Abbot Pekurar"

Mariam frowned, saying, "Stupid men should not attempt to be sly."

Eacharn responded, "He is blackmailing us! We cannot afford to lose both our contacts nor have them paralyzed by an investigation or closer scrutiny."

"No, my friend, we cannot. Our immediate plans have some dependence on them. We have other means to get what we need but that takes time.

The Romanian makes the mistake of thinking that our allying with him means we have no allies among his enemies. It is ill-advised and quite likely fatal. Have our intermediaries involved with the Eastern European groups of vampires and werewolves set up some negotiations regarding a shared action that can benefit all parties. I trust you to provide them with exacting details on what we need. Go through the Austrian Mobad…that would be Clark Sendat. Request an order of magnitude quote for the price. We'll inform the Nomás Dikaiós Hodós central committee to allow them opportunity to negate our proposed action."

"I will work on that this afternoon. What shall be our response to the Abbot, Mariam?"

"A flowery reply, of course….the usual arse kissing. No need to tongue his hole; just a little lip press on one cheek." she said, smiling "Express our obvious willingness to forgive him for his poor showing with the Queen. Ensure he understands our desire to maintain our followers in their key positions. Then request information on this next cleansing mission….timetables…number of participants...location of the attack. Also include, in compensation for our help, an addition to his mission, the removal of a mid-level bureaucrat; you pick. Do not, under any circumstances, state an assent or refusal of his request. I'd like it on my desk for signature by tomorrow noon."

"Of course, Dr. Olabhue." Eacharn said, grim-faced. "Next, I have the report you requested from our contact in Mr. Potter's department. As we are still keeping our informant ignorant of the reason for needing the data, this report was obtained as part of our weekly information request. It's about 70 inches long and highly detailed. I can provide you an overview."

She sat back in her chair looking at him with raised eyebrows. "No thank you. Simply provide details on our subject; then leave the parchment with me."

"Right. As planned, they passed through the security wards at 2045 hours. Potter's department is investigating how they did it with the blood key from a person already present at the ball. The cleansing team's use of the key was obtained from a wounded witness' memory…a witness they should have eliminated….sloppy work.

The first few curses were directed toward the area of our target. Since our contact does not know of our request to the Romanians, I had to piece that together from the timeline. Our Romanian contact said that Dorian Vladu was the wizard assigned to send those curses as he entered the doors then continue until the target was eliminated. Unfortunately, early in the struggle, he was crushed by a desk when the ceiling was brought down."

"Hmmm, clever." Mariam mused. "Was that Weasley's move?"

"Um…no. That was a witch named O'Flaherty. She helped Weasley and was gravely wounded but survived. Regardless, Vladu's early demise and the breaking of his wand at the same time prevented the exact identification of the curse he used. Going back to the timeline, we can see the curse was thwarted by two events. Lord Greengrass pushed the Queen to his right while Lord Malfoy was bringing up a shield charm. Vladu's hex was powerful enough to refract through the partially formed shield and still significantly harm Greengrass. He was hospitalized for 12 days requiring substantial potion application even though he was only clipped by a spread form of the curse. If it had struck the Queen as intended, she would be dead.

Immediately after that, Mr. Weasley crowded people on the same side of the room. The cleansing team's backup plan of concentrating firepower at our target was doomed to failure, especially while defending against his constant hexing along with growing reprisal from the other wizards and witches, many of whom are war veterans."

Looking up from the magazine Mariam commented, "Interestingly, our young hero regrets that particular decision. Her death was to be one among many in a misguided attack, at least as the news media would see it. Potter would have been informed differently by us. Malfoy?….is he one of ours?"

"Yes, but, in maintaining our compartmentalization, Lord Malfoy was recruited only in a professional capacity outside of the magical community, and has no knowledge of our inner workings. He originally hesitated at our extra-legal business dealings but has warmed up to it since. A large profit margin is a very powerful inducement." Eacharn remarked.

He paused for a second and then continued, "I was thinking Potter's other friend could have been slain if the team had put all effort into that task. Perhaps we chose the wrong target."

Mariam looked at him and allowed a bit of reproof on her countenance. "No, I don't think so. Unless I am reading him incorrectly, Potter is more vulnerable when it concerns women. This one has a special place in his heart, as you know. It's not the same as Ginevra, but close. That, along with the Romanian's request for help with their attack, is why I chose her. As a leader against their cause, she was a prime target for them, making it unlikely the investigation would go further. It was also a test. However, I should have known the Romanians would focus too much on their obligation. They have meager ability to modify the plan in a crisis. Perhaps we should have suggested the Red King as a secondary target."

Eacharn began rolling the parchment and glanced at her. "Unless you have more questions Mariam, I suggest we move to the next correspondence of importance."

Dr. Olabhue closed the magazine and studied the cover for a few moments. "The results of this attempt should remove most doubts about the identification of those mentioned in the prophecy. This is especially true when the information from the war with Voldemort is taken into account. Her survival merely indicates that the mortal conflict is still in the future. Unfortunately, we are no closer to determining who the fourth one is, or what group their enemies are. However, the looming impediment to moving forward on the Path lies right here in England and we must continue to address that. What is the next correspondence?"

She reopened the magazine as Eacharn announced, "We received a complaint from the contractor with whom we are in negotiations. He is balking at our latest modification."

She spoke while still reading "Regale me with the specifics, Mr. Nethery."

"Lester Deadman [ _Mariam snorts and rolls her eyes_ ] declares we should have informed him of the intended attack by the Romanians, as it complicates his work greatly. He wants one and a half times the original amount before even considering the modification. His reasoning is, quote, '...for dealing with the aftermath of the boneheaded maneuver in the attempt on a closely related target in a public venue.'

On top of that, he demands a minimum of quadruple the price if he is to remove both targets instead of one. He goes on to say the basis for the price increase is twofold. First, the two targets must be removed at the same time or very close together due to their relatedness. Secondly, the two are rarely in an unprotected location without small children present. Our standard requirement to keep the children uninvolved limits the opportunities even further. He would need to hire more subcontractors to ensure simultaneous removal of the targets without danger to the children. He adds that the particulars of the contract will determine how much more the price will increase. Furthermore, he is concerned about the recognition…"

Mariam held up her right hand as she closed the magazine. Eacharn stopped speaking. She stroked her fingers across the two faces on the cover and chewed on her bottom lip.

Her work on her doctorate in psychology gave her the ability to glean accurate information solely from body language. Mrs. Weasley moved her arm across his shoulder but not in the typical loose manner. The ending position of her hand spoke of a more protective attitude toward her husband while also drawing strength from him. Hermione's history showed that her protection of Ronald would be substantial and swiftly meted out, if he were threatened. The other hand grasping his upper arm indicated her comfort with having some control over him.

For his part, Ronald Weasley leaned toward his wife as if he was accepting of both the protection and the control. His movement as she grasped his shoulder turned his torso in an attempt to put him even closer to her, indicating strong commitment, but also dependence. Although Hermione was moderately attractive, she did not have the hallmarks of stunning loveliness. However, Mariam would wager a year of her substantial salary that Ronald honestly considers his wife to be a significant beauty. Mariam knew his history in the war and after. She could tell that despite what he had been through, Ronald Weasley would willingly suffer more and give his last breath for this woman next to him.

Still, something had to be done. Sentimentality hinders the necessary. This is the part of her work that Mariam disliked, but, as usual, she would follow through with the responsibility. She welcomed the pain she felt at the suffering which MUST be inflicted for the Path to move forward. To feel less would make her unworthy. Also the pain kept her honest so that she would not cause suffering for suffering's sake. Ronald has invested so much of himself in his wife that Hermione's death will surely destroy him. It would be less cruel to remove them both. She should have seen that before involving the Romanians. The Mobad recognized she had become victim to the intoxicating fumes of success and chosen the easy way to address this problem; she'll deal with THAT in her private meditation. With a sigh, Mariam looked over her desk to Eacharn as she spoke.

"The Travelers on the Correct Path have never been so tantalizingly close to our goal as we are now. The research into accessing the Source is at a critical point and must continue here or our work will be obstructed in Switzerland. Once we have the power of the Source, we can enforce the peace for which we have worked so diligently. However, we must not let our excitement blind us to the threat that remains embodied in the four.

Potter's Aurors have gotten some indication of our actions that violate current law, which alerted our contact to inform us that an investigation is underway. Despite our communication warning him to desist or risk litigation, he has increased the resources being used. The probability of their discovering us and the true nature of our work is growing. Furthermore, it would be disastrous if they were to make the connection between our actions here and the evidence Potter obtained 5 years ago from the Americans in Arizona. Bringing the black ones into our organization was the mistake which resulted in our losses there. My first responsibility after my ascension to Mobad, as you well know, was to oversee the punishment of my predecessor for that lapse in judgement.

The danger from these investigations into our plans necessitates showing Potter how much he can lose if he continues. He tends to be too direct, so he will require some coaching from us on how to slowly withdraw resources from the case without raising suspicion in his department. Additionally, his friends must be forced to recognize the costs of standing with him."

Mariam reached her decision.

"We will offer the contractor six times the one-target rate with the following stipulations. The number of targets will be limited to the two mentioned, but the terms of the contract require him to follow our specifications to the letter. I will write those specifications and have them in his hands one week from this Thursday. He has seven weeks from that point to remove the targets with no variance allowed. A twenty percent payment will be provided upon his acceptance of our contract. No final payment will be forthcoming until we have established his adherence to our requirements. "

She looked again at the magazine cover saying "Eacharn, please deal directly with Mr. Deadman and get an agreement or refusal today. We cannot afford any delay, so this takes priority over the letter to Abbot Pekurar. Contact me immediately when you have his decision. Thank you, my friend."

"You are most welcome, Dr. Olabhue."

Eacharn turned and left the office, closing the door behind him.

Mariam tossed the magazine into the rubbish bin. For a moment, she pondered the effect her decision would have on this young family and that led to her wondering what her own grandchildren looked like. She shook her head upon realizing her sin, contritely requested forgiveness, and turned back to the open parchment scroll on her desk. 


End file.
